


Five Times Evelyn Sniffed Cullen and the One Time She Didn’t

by Crazypups



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: 5 Times, F/M, Fluff, Funny, it had to be done, smelling and sniffing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-07 23:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14091588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazypups/pseuds/Crazypups
Summary: It was  an interesting smell, one that warranted an investigation.





	1. In His Office

l

She looked over his shoulder past the fur coat and onto the map Cullen was pointing at. It was his personal map, one that rivaled the intricacy of the one in the war room. The map was specifically designed for the Commander, only showing practical information and disregarding the more esthetic side of map making. 

The candles in his office imparted a warm glow, making it harder to view the specific details the map offered. She inched closer, her head in level with his but Evelyn didn’t have to bend too far, the Commander was a big man after all. 

“Right over here, our men will wait for Leliana’s signal.” Cullen moved his piece over the hill.

Evelyn nodded, squinting at the map. Andraste’s knickers her eyesight was going bad. She had to lean closer. Okay, a step forward and perfect—was that honey? And oil? What an odd combination, well another sniff would confirm where it was coming from. 

She breathed in the air and came to a burning realization. Cullen smelled of honey and oil. Evelyn ironed her spine and backed up so quickly she encountered the wall and almost lost her balance. Now that would have been mortifying but no worse than being caught smelling the Commander of the Inquisition. And why honey? Oil, well that was obviously due to his armor. 

“Inquisitor?” Cullen asked, getting out of his chair. 

Her blush spread to her hairline. “No!”

The man froze, half standing half sitting, looking like Andraste came down for a chat. “No?”

“I—uh—report!” I have reports! And I—uh—I must leave! That’s right, I must leave now, right this moment.” Evelyn sprinted out of his office and didn’t stop until she was in her room diving for her bed and screaming into her silk pillows. “Fuck!” 

Not only had she sniffed Cullen—the Commander of the Inquisition and former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall—she had no idea what the plan was for the upcoming expedition into the Emerald Graves. She couldn’t go back for another debriefing, not when she was like—like—

Evelyn sank into her covers and groaned.


	2. Clothes

II

“The Royal Tailor? Surely you jest?” Evelyn asked, wrinkling her nose. 

“Quite serious, Inquisitor. Madame Viviane insisted upon it and I do share her sentiments,” Josie said, opening the door to her office. “We can’t appear unclothe and divided.”

Even as a Trevelyan she didn’t know Royal Tailors existed, although growing up in the Circle may factor into that… 

“Surely we are not deserving of—” Evelyn cut off, her words suffering a quick death in her throat. 

In the center of the room stood Cullen, stripped down to his breaches. His wide shoulders spread forever, tapering down to narrow hips and a shapely arse. Unfortunately he wasn’t—no, it was a small mercy he was still clothed, shirt tucked into his pants while his armor occupied a whole chair. 

Maker’s breath this had to be blasphemous, no man should be so…tempting. 

“Inquisitor.” He gave a slight start and twisted around, hiding that beautiful bottom. “I—er—hello.”

“I see you arrived early, my dear Inquisitor,” a short woman said, spectacles low on her nose. Maybe Evelyn should ask where she got them. “Be a peach and have patience, I’ll be done with your Commander soon!” The woman giggled much like how a nug would nibble on nuggets, loud and obnoxious. 

So this must be the Royal Tailor. 

Evelyn worked her throat while a blush crawled over her cheeks. Under all that muscle lay a man too good—no, bad Evelyn. No thinking of what was underneath that flimsy cotton of his shirt. “Well, I suppose I will be—”

“Waiting.” Josie cut in with a secret smile. “I however, have a duke to attend to. Oh—and Inquisitor, please be patience, it make take a while.” With a nod she left the three of them alone.

Traitor.

Evelyn pulled down on her sleeves, trying to busy her hands. It was awkward leaving them hanging. 

“We can resume this another time, yes? The Inquisitor is here and I am pressed for time,” Cullen said, stepping away from the Royal Tailor. 

“Nonsense! Lady Inquisitor doesn’t mind in the slightest!”

“No she doesn’t, as you were Commander.” Evelyn almost felt a touch of regret but it quickly vanished as Cullen tried to wiggle his way out of the Royal Tailors grasp, then it became quite humorous. 

“I was worried about that…” Cullen muttered, his gaze elsewhere. Probably inspecting the banners or waiting for the next assassination attempt. 

With a nod Evelyn sat near the fireplace—making sure the doors were within view—and watched the Royal Tailor work. Cullen didn’t face her, still inspecting Josie’s office while his measurements were taken. This all looked horribly boring and Evelyn would waste a few hours waiting for Cullen to finish before it was her turn. She had actual work to do, like passing judgement on goats or evaluating the sweetness of sweats. Official business. 

The petit woman wrapped the tape around his legs and nodded. “Oh! What fine musculature, Commander. Teaching those recruits must keep you in shape then! Why, not even the chevaliers are this well maintained and I have seen my fair share of handsome, strapping young men. Although Commander, I wonder how you appeared in your youth? Or are you one of those men that age like wine?” 

“Erm.” He tried to keep still but was failing in that endeavor. 

“Keep still! Where was I? Ah, yes, you are in wonderful shape Commander, I know a few who would be green with envy!” The Royal Tailor prattled on like she uncovered the greatest mysteries in life. 

“Thank you.” He gulped, loud enough for Evelyn to hear. His face should be beat red, if only he would face her.

For some reason Evelyn was…prickled. Not even the crackling fire could calm her annoyance or the infinitely plush chair. Andraste’s tits Josie had the best chairs. Was it because she welcomed dignitaries? Next list of action: replacing the chairs in Evelyn’s room—oh and the blasted throne as well. 

“Ow!” Cullen said, rubbing his backside. 

Evelyn narrowed her eyes. What was going on?

“Apologies! My pin!” the Royal Tailor said.

He scowled but said nothing else, still rubbing wherever the Royal Tailor accidentally pinched him. Evelyn snorted, sure it was the pin and not greedy fingers. 

“Inquisitor!” she said, giving Evelyn’s title the common Orlesian tilt.

Evelyn winced, must the woman always speak with a shrill tone? There was no immediate danger around. “Yes?”

“Oh Inquisitor! Will you please be a dear and hold this tape—the Commander is far too tall for me! What a strapping man.” Indeed, the tiny woman didn’t even reach his waist. She could be half dwarf…

“Oh—well, if you insist.” Evelyn gulped, her hands growing clammy. 

“I do!”

Maker’s balls. She pushed off the chair and wiped her palms, praying to all the Gods she didn’t trip on the way. Thankfully one of the Gods answered her prayers and nothing happened. Now she would have to make offerings to all of them. 

 

Evelyn stopped in front of Cullen and held out her hand. The Royal Tailor deposited the tape in Evelyn’s waiting hand and went to Josie’s desk, quill ready to jot down numbers. 

“His chest measurements, dearie.” Was that…a teasing tone?

Focus Evelyn, stop imagining things but it was hard to focus when she stood so close to Cullen. It was worse without all his armor and somehow it had created a sort of barrier between them, a reminder of their stations. Without it, well, it was different and not the good kind.

At this distance Evelyn could count the fine lines around his eyes and on his forehead, the amber flecks in his eyes, the scar that painted his lip… So close. 

“Inquisitor?” Cullen asked and her title sounded far superior in a Ferelden accent.

Damn. “The measurement! Yes of course, thinking about the ball and you see it’s so close by and I absolutely dread balls, with all the dresses and—”

“No dress, a simple yet elegant uniform!” the Royal Tailor added with her annoying voice. 

“Oh.” She was looking forward to wearing an extravagant dress. Something like a ball dress wasn’t need in the Circle. “So yes, the ball.”

“Yes, the ball, of course. Whatever else could you have been distracted by.” Cullen said and his kissa—his lips formed a smirk. 

A smirk! He! Smirking at her!

Without another word Evelyn wrapped the tape around Cullen’s wide chest and everything changed. There was that smell again—honey and oil—an unexpected combination yet they complemented each other. It was quintessentially Cullen and Evelyn couldn’t attach another smell that defined him better. 

Cullen’s gaze grew unfocused, taking in shallow breaths and the warmth that touched her fingers were almost burning but there was too much fabric that separated skin from skin. All it took was a blasted button. 

How easy would it be to feel his beating heart? Would it pound as quickly as her own?

“Cullen?” she asked, but what was she asking for?

He snapped to attention, pupils blowing up and he seemed to understand her unspoken question. “I believe the Royal Tailor is waiting for the measurement, Evelyn,” Cullen murmured. 

That didn’t sound right but Evelyn fumbled with the tape and she finally told the small woman the measurements. She had to repeat it for the Royal Tailor was gaping like a mule, eyes wide and unblinking. 

Definitely half dwarf. 

And since when was Cullen so composed? Evelyn avoided his face for the rest of the session, her heart beating awfully loud.


	3. Well this isn't Awkward

III

“Dismissed,” Evelyn said in her Inquisitor voice. The war meeting had dragged on for hours, Cullen and Leliana’s arguing made it unnecessarily long. If only they could get along with war strategies but that seemed as unlikely as the Nug King coming for a visit. 

Leliana and Josie left, sneaking secret smiles with each other. 

Well. That was…odd and ominous. It was never good when Leliana smiled. 

Pinching her nose, Evelyn went to chase them down and demand answers but a warm hand grabbed her elbow, Cullen’s hand. Soft yet firm, unexpected for a Templar. Ex-Templar. Andraste’s flaming tits she was over the Circle. 

A slow burn grew, itching up her arm across her neck to taunt her cheeks, none of which was caused by magic. Was she always so ill around him? Maybe she was allergic to his touch, it would explain a lot.

“Cullen?”

He didn’t let go nor say anything. 

“Do you have something to say?” Evelyn turned to face him. “Is Leliana’s words bothering you? If so, I could have a word—”

“No, Inquisitor, I can handle her no matter how frightening Sister Nightingale is.” He smiled and her head grew dizzy. She should command him to stop smiling so much. 

Evelyn managed to chuckle. “Yes, she puts the fear of the Maker in you.” 

He didn’t laugh with her, his eyes overlooking every inch of her face. Evelyn’s laugh died slowly before she gulped it down. This was eerily familiar, like that time they played chess together. He wore the same face, foreseeing moves she hadn’t even thought of. 

But this wasn’t a chest game, or so she believed. Maybe for Cullen everything was a chest game. He squeezed her elbow before letting go. 

“I—” Cullen scratched the back of his head, armor creaking with the movement. The calculating look was gone, replaced by a more familiar look. 

For some reason she was disappointed, although that could also be her starving stomach. “Yes?” Evelyn teased and clasped her hands behind her back. She leaned forward and tilted her head to the side, close enough to get a whiff of honey and oil. Again? The same scent? She took another sniff, it was becoming addicting. “Has Sera imparted yet another prank?”

“Maker no—that’s the farthest thing from my mind.” He shifted looking nervous and it was hard to remember that this was the same man who yelled at recruits and commanded armies. 

“What is it with men, never fearing the wraith or—or darkspawn but a simple question has them running for the hills.” Opps, an inside thought became an outside thought.

That was the wrong thing to say for a dark shadow passed over Cullen’s face. “I was going to ask if I have I offended in any way but I see it was a useless worry.”

“What!” she blurted out. “No! Of course not, you’ve never—what gave you that idea?” 

He crossed his arms. “If I recall correctly you keep dashing every time we are alone, like now.”

“That’s not—”

“Oh yes, looking towards the door for salvation isn’t what you’re currently doing. It happened when we were discussing the scouting mission and again with the tailor,” Cullen said, his brows scrunching together. 

“I took your measurements!”

He looked away at her words. “How could I forget.” In a louder voice he said, “So, have I?”

“Have you?” At this point he probably thought her incapable of any advanced thought.

“Offended,” Cullen said and all the annoyance melted off his shoulders as he waited for an answer.

Maker’s hairy toe was she that transparent? Evelyn sighed. “No.” Shit that came out shaky. “You—well, oh, look at the time!"

Cullen's arm shot out and pulled her close, Evelyn's hands pressing against the cold metal of his armor. For a few long seconds she stared into his eyes and wondered how they could look like liquid gold. Then she remembered herself and pushed him away. Cullen stepped away and cleared his throat. A heavy silence hung between them and it was too reminiscent of another life.

Evelyn raised her head. "You make me nervous," she said in one breath. 

Cullen met her gazed and looked puzzled. “I beg your pardon?”

Oh no, he was going to force her to repeat it. “You make me…nervous.” Was she blushing? It was hard to tell when her whole body was on fire. 

“Whyever would you ever feel nervous?” His face darkened. “Is it because I was a—”

“No! I’ve long passed that.” She held up a hand, lightening jumping between her fingers. “You are the Commander of the Inquisition and I’d have no one else leading its armies. Besides, you are a good and honorable man.”

“Honorable,” he repeated, sounding like he didn’t believe it. Rolling his shoulders back, he smiled, scar warping around his lips. “Well, I’d rather be nowhere else.”

She shared his smile, happiness bubbling throughout her chest. Cullen lifted a hand and brushed her cheek, leather gloves lingering. Evelyn licked her lips and—

“Evie! You’re late!” Sera kicked the door open. “Thought I had to put arrows into something, shame I don’t.”

Evelyn jumped and moved away from Cullen, facing the troublemaker with the face of a sinner. Sera took one look at the both of them and a smile exploded on her face, much like when she threw the jar of bees at the nobles. Sera opened her mouth and Evelyn jumped the elf, dragging her away from Cullen and the war room before she could say anything damning.

It was better to suffer a conversation on positions without Cullen in hearing range.


	4. On the Brink of Disaster

IV

She sat on her chair, overlooking the entire hall of Skyhold. There were more Fereldans than usual, some even bringing their mabari along. Josie had almost fainted in shock when Evelyn requested the dogs’ presence but there was an ulterior motive in all of this. Evelyn could finally get a pup of her own. It was the perfect opportunity to inquiry after litters. 

No doubt Vivian would complain of the wet dog smell that would linger but no matter, Evelyn never minded it. 

Evelyn shifted in her chair, her bottom making its displeasure known. Josie had yet to replace this blasted throne. It was more for aesthetics than comfort but Andraste’s nose hairs if she had to spend a whole day sitting she will do it in a plush chair!

The trumpets sounded, interrupting Evelyn’s laundry list of complaints and she sat straighter in her chair. 

It was time.

“Now announcing King Alistair Theirin of Ferelden!” Thank the Maker the announcer didn’t prattle off accomplishments, they would be here all day. 

With a consort of knights, nobles, diplomats, and dogs, King Alistair marched down the hallway in his less than extravagant garb. Harden leather with a lightly decorated coat. That must be a good sign, right? 

He stopped at the base of her uncomfortable throne and bowed his head. “Inquisitor, we finally meet, well, under better circumstances.”

Evelyn stood and met him, disregarding Vivian’s glare and Josie’s raised eyebrows. She wasn’t supposed to meet him but if she had to sit for another second Evelyn might just scream. Besides, the King seemed like a nice man. 

“King Alistair, you humble me with your presence. I thank you for accepting my invite and welcome you to Skyhold.” There was no Queen by his side and she frowned. As a young girl she read tales of him and the mighty Warden. “Your Queen?”

“Presently occupied, my love is away on her own task.” King Alistair wore a big smile when speaking of her, his eyes soft. “And I thank you for the invite, it’s about time we discuss this Corypheus, nasty fellow isn’t he?”

Evelyn’s smile widened. “Indeed, you should see his footwear. I had no idea the Ancient Imperium wore such impractical shoes.”

King Alistair threw back his head and laughed, some of the tension in her shoulders melting off. It was going to be a promising partnership with the Ferelden King.

“Cullen? Is that you? Wow, how you’ve grown old!” King Alistair transformed, resembling more of a young warden than weary King.

“Ha, I barely recognized you, can you still lift a sword and shield?” came Cullen’s quick reply. He stepped away from the other advisors and embraced the King like they were old friends. 

Evelyn looked from the King to Cullen, raising an eyebrow. Yes, they were both from Ferelden but friends? A quick glance to Leliana didn’t confirm anything. She also wore a small smile, a cat ready to pounce. 

“I’m a touch offended Alistair, you’ve noticed Cullen before me.” Leliana joined them, flowing to the other side of Alistair. 

With a smile Evelyn watched, more than once focusing solely on Cullen. He had an easy laugh, quick to use it when King Alistair said something witty. How was Cullen in his youth? She heard stories of course, but before all of that there was an idealistic young man. Was he like this?

“Inquisitor?” Cullen said with a slight frown. 

Damn, this was becoming a habit. Evelyn swallowed. “How long have you known the King?” It was safe to ask since the King was currently engrossed in conversation with Leliana, boasting of the Queen’s conquests. 

Cullen left them to their gossip, standing in front of Evelyn at a respectful distance which was silly, they’ve been closer before. Ah but, that wasn’t in front of an audience of Fereldans and the Inquisition. 

“You had this look about you,” he explained. 

She chuckled, lowering her gaze. “I suppose I did, my mind has been wandering as of late. Must be the mounting pressure and all those fun responsibilities.” Andraste’s arse she had to learn to sew her mouth shut. Luckily no one but Cullen heard, it wouldn’t do for the Inquisitor to complain of duties. 

He frowned, his brow scrunched like a prune. “Alistair,” Cullen said, twisting to address the King. “The Inquisitor wishes to prepare something special in the garden. It won’t be too long, isn’t that right, Inquisitor?”

“What?” she asked, eyes wide. Had he gone mad? He must have for he dragged her away from the main hall and into the deserted courtyard. “Are you insane! I can’t leave him alone and a surprise! What are you going on about!”

Cullen checked their surroundings before responding. “Have you been sleeping properly?” he asked instead of answering her questions. 

No, she hadn’t. “Yes.”

He sighed. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Am not,” she said, adjusting her sleeves.

“Your lips tremble twice and you always pull on your sleeves when you’re fibbing,” he said, glancing to her lips. 

Evelyn touched her lips. “Twice you say.” Did that mean he often looked at her lips? Like right now? A shiver ran up her spine and she did something stupid, she took a step closer. “You’re right, I haven’t been but that’s part of the job. There’s something else on my mind and, well, it’s stupid.”

Cullen didn’t move staying rooted to the spot. His eyes flickered to her lips again before finding her gaze. “If it has you so…distracted I’d say it’s rather important.” The man remembered himself and he looked away, finding the trees very interesting. 

“It isn’t—“ The wind took that opportunity to whip them both, bringing a strong scent of honey and oil. That infernal smell and infuriating combination. Why honey! She couldn’t figure it out! Why would he smell of honey!

She breathed in deeply, becoming drunk on his scent. 

“Evelyn, Makers breath! Alistair is coming!” Cullen said, panic in his voice.

“What!” she whipped her head to the side—her neck giving an ugly crack—and it was true. King Alistair and his barrage of followers were walking towards them. 

Andraste’s flaming, flying tits! The Dread Wolf’s claws! What was that Tevinter god?

“Inquisitor,” King Alistair began, looking around the courtyard. “So what’s this surprise Cullen promised?”


End file.
